Han & Leia Vignettes
by Ellie12
Summary: One shot fics featuring Han/Leia, originally written for Scoundress Saturdays on tumblr. OT-canon, not in any chronological order.
1. Date Night

"When's the last time we went on a date?"

She looked up from her datapad and stared at Han, who was perched on the other end of their sofa, his own datapad in hand. "Last week we went to that reception-"

He cut her off with a dismissive huff. "That doesn't count! We were there in an official capacity. At least you were. Doesn't count as a date, it counts as _work_."

"Then...I guess…." Dropping her datapad to her lap, Leia bit her lip and pondered. "A date?"

"Yeah."

With a shrug, she came up with, "We went out to dinner when we were on Corellia. Does that count? When was that?"

"Doesn't count, it was during vacation. Plus that was more than six months ago."

"Huh." She frowned a little, and studied him. "Did you have something in mind?"

He waved his datapad in her general direction. "They've re-released 'Escape from Al-Zara'. Thought it might be fun to go see something in a theater. I remember liking it as a kid."

"Might be fun, I remember liking it too."

"How'd you see it? I'd have thought it was off the holos til you were watching movies, I barely remember it myself. They're re-releasing it because of the Imperial ban on it no longer existing."

"Imperial bans on information and art never really stopped my parents from exposing me what they thought was important. My father really liked the movie. He said it was 'historically inaccurate but highly entertaining'." She shrugged, but smiled at him.

"Well, it's a date then. Tomorrow? We can try that new Corellian place before, if you wanna get dinner too."

"That sounds remarkably pedestrian."

He frowned at her. "I'm not so sure that's a yes."

"It's an enthusiastic yes to doing something like normal beings for once." She leaned across to meet his for a quick kiss before returning to her datapad.


	2. Blankets

She had just gotten herself comfortable in the strange bunk, pillows tucked just so and blankets adjusted right for the temperature of the ship, blessedly warmer than Hoth but still cool in the void of space. There were numerous blankets to choose from, and she'd layered several of them into a warm, snug place to sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this warm.

But that plan was interrupted by the whoosh of the cabin door flying open, startling her even deeper into the bedding, tucking her bare arms under the blankets quickly, but not quick enough to escape Han's notice.

He stopped just far enough inside the doorway for it to close behind him, then frowned. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed? With _all_ of my blankets?"

She blushed but met his gaze steadily. "You told me to take your bed. And the only clothing I have is that blasted snowsuit, which I cannot wear constantly. It's in the auto valet overnight."

With a grunt, he crossed the cabin and began to rummage in one of the drawers. As he turned back to her, he held up a mass of light blue fabric.

"How bout you trade me one of those blankets for a t-shirt to sleep in so I don't freeze to death?"

Carefully, she extended one arm from the nest of blanketing. "Deal. But just one."

He frowned, until she laughed, and then gave her a surprised smile.

"I'll see what else I got here that might work for you so you're not stuck in that snowsuit the whole way to Bespin. My shirts are probably dresses on you anyway."

"Thanks." It took minimal maneuvering to pull his shirt over her head and down to cover herself without exposing any skin. Only then did she shift the mass of bedding. "Which blanket did you want?"

He came closer to the bed, seeming wary, but staring down at the bed. "Where's the brown one? It's kinda ugly but real soft."

"Oh I've got that…" she pulled back the layers, until she realized it was the bottom blanket she'd been snuggled into. As she struggled to extricate it, he held out his hand out to still hers.

"Nah, it's ok, I'll just take this one." He snagged the corner of a multicolored quilt, tugging it gently. Once she saw his aim, she helped shift the multitude of fabric away, until it pulled free.

Han swirled the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, and gave her a goofy smile. "I'll be in the crew cabin with Chewie if you need anything. There's a ship's alarm set for 0400, so don't worry if you hear it. Me or Chewie'll get up and run the scans."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"G'night, Princess." When he said it that way, as if he was already half asleep, it almost sounded like an endearment and not a taunt.

She rolled that thought around in her head as she settled in to his bed and tried to fall asleep. It was warm and cozy and smelled like him, and for the first night in a very long time, sleep came easily.


	3. Celestial Navigation

Sometime on the way to Bespin…

"First, no computers." He powered down all the navigation monitors and system monitors. "You gotta do this blind, because that's the way it would be when you really needed this."

Dimming the lights of the cockpit, he twisted around in the pilot's seat, reaching under it, into a worn, leather satchel affixed to the underside of it. She'd never noticed it before, low to the decking and blending in with the worn material of the seat itself, but just within arm's reach of the pilot or navigator at all times. With a flourish, he withdrew two massive flimsiplast notebooks and an assortment of mechanical gadgets.

She peered at them, at least one instrument looking vaguely familiar as he spread them out on the controls in front of them, then over to the bound volumes resting on Han's thighs.

"Are those star charts?"

He nodded. "Yep. Gotta have hard copies. 'Cause doing this right means no computers."

Lifting one of the heavy volumes and pulling it towards her, she settled in onto her own lap and opened it up. "My father collected these. There was a whole shelf of them in the library. I used to love looking at them as a kid. They were so big he'd have to pull them down for me." Flipping through a few pages, she stopped, and her fingers trailed across a chart still showing the flight lanes around Alderaan.

When she looked back up at him, he had that glorious lopsided grin on his face. "You oughta be a natural at this, then."

"Well, it is why I wanted to learn."

"Then let's get started. If you hand that back to me-" She passed the charts back to him, then opened her datapad and pulled out a stylus.

"You gonna take notes, SSweetheart?" He quirked a brow at her.

"How else do you expect me to remember anything?"

With a wave of a hand, he reached towards the instruments he'd spread out in front of them. "Whatever works for you. Now, first step in figuring out where you're going is knowing where in the hells you are. What do we know that can help us figure that out?"

Leia pointed her stylus at the star charts on his lap. "We know where we left from, and where we've been, somewhat. So we can find those on a chart."

"Right." He handed her one of the other chart books. "You wanna find the Hoth system in there? And what else might the _star_ charts tell us?"

"Our relative position to other stars." The worn pages of the book were easy to flip through, and she found the Rim charts containing Hoth with relative ease.

"Yeah, so, it helps if there's some really recognizable stuff around. Hypergiants, pulsars, nebula. Any of those in the neighborhood?"

She took a moment to study the chart. "Kiax Nebula. And The Ring is a black dwarf."

"Good. So, can we actually see any of those things out the viewport?"

"Yes." The nebula was obvious, and she pointed at it.

"Okay. Obviously you can't see a black dwarf real easy. Anything else that might stand out?"

"Varonat has a double orange dwarf star. Which..." she trailed off and gazed out the viewport again, and gestured. "Is there."

"Now for the hard part." Holding up a beautiful brass instrument, he passed it over to her. "Quadrant. Lets you measure the angle between two objects. Real old tool, from back in seafaring days on Corellia. Still works in a pinch if you're lost on the ground somewhere, too. Though maybe not this one, 's pretty heavy. Would work in a fight in a pinch, though."

Rolling her eyes at him, she hefted the quadrant, already seeing where this was going. She peered through the eyepiece, Varonat clear in her sights.

"You sure you don't wanna give up the revolutionary thing and work as a navigator? You're a natural at this."

She lowered the tool and met his smiling eyes. "Maybe I can help you navigate your way back to my revolution."

His smile faded, and he looked down at the pile of star charts for a long moment. Looking back up at her, mustered a sadder smile. "If I can come back, you can navigate me anywhere you'd like me to go."

Their eyes met, and she understood that it was as close as he could get to saying he was coming back, because they both knew that wasn't a promise he could make her. For now, for her, that would have to be enough.

"Let's get us to Bespin, first, though." He rose from the chair and moved to crouch next to her, his breath warm on her cheek. "If you measure the angle between the two…."


	4. Princess

His hand rested on his baby's foot. Or possibly elbow. Maybe even knee. He wasn't really sure, but it looked like it could be in no way comfortable for Leia, as the protrusion stretched her already taut skin even farther. He pressed gently against it, trying to persuade the offending body part to perhaps take it a little easier on her mother.

As the foot eased away, he felt Leia shift in front of him.

"Sorry."

"It's not you, it's _her_. She's apparently wide awake."

"So you're wide awake too."

"You don't have to be. I know you have that simulator training session in the morning. Don't let me keep you awake." She rolled over to face him, shifting back to make room.

"You got stuff tomorrow too. S'not fair you don't get to sleep."

"I'll just get up and do a little work now so maybe I can catch a nap tomorrow." She kissed his forehead, then started to move away.

"Nah, stay here, I'll keep you company." He caught her hand in his, thumb stroking her wrist, and felt her settle back down onto the bed.

Reaching around her, he kneaded her upper back, feeling the tension there ease a bit, before she tensed again as the baby seemed to somersault around. One of his hands slid back down to feel the movement under her skin.

"Can I ask you something? 'Bout the baby?"

"I think you've read more of the books than I have at this point, but if you've got questions-"

"Not technical like that." His hand ran over her, trying to be soothing as he searched for the words. "You're a Princess. Will she be one too? How's that work?"

Leia hummed a bit, stilling, and he knew she was thinking. "I...hadn't thought about it. Were you thinking about it?"

"More just curious. Not sure how the royalty thing worked. She's gonna get treated like one either way."

"Technically, yes, as the child of the heir apparent, any child of mine would be a princess or prince. I'm sure there are parts of the Diaspora who would be delighted to have that announced at the Blessing Ceremony, but I'm just not sure-"

"Blessing Ceremony?" He racked his brain, trying to recall being told about any baby ceremonies.

"It's Alderaanian royal custom. About a week after the birth, the baby is blessed by the eldest member of the ruling family, and their title and names are announced. It's the day that's publicly celebrated for them, rather than the actual birthdate, which is just for family."

Frowning, he studied her face as well as he could in the dim light. "Why am I just hearing about this now? Seems important."

"It was," she responded after a moment, her voice close to a whisper, and full of melancholy. "But I'm the only member of the ruling family left, and I don't think that titles are necessary for any children I have. There's no Alderaan for them to inherit."

"I thought you wanted to keep traditions-the holidays and the language and stuff. Fancy hair."

"I do."

"But you don't need her to be Princess Leia II to accomplish that."

He could feel her nod against him, moving closer. His arms closed tighter around her, feeling some of the tension ease out of her.

Abruptly she pulled away, studying him. "Do you want her to have a title?"

That was enough to make him laugh a little. "You know that doesn't matter to me. But if it matters to _you_…."

"It doesn't _not_ matter, but I want our children to be private citizens first. If she decides one day that she wants to take up the cause of the Diaspora, or one of their Senate positions, and would like to be recognized as Princess, she can make that choice for herself."

He pondered that information for a minute, stroking her back and liking the sound of letting the kid choose for themself. "But how's that work? You just up and make up a title at eighteen or whatever?"

When she laughed against him, he could feel her relaxing. "No, it's always there. Understood by Alderaanians but unused. There are some Alderaanians, and Elder House members, who will address her that way whether we choose to use it or not."

"We gonna get some crazy baby tiaras as presents?"

"I've issued a notice that in lieu of gifts, I would like donations in the name of Baby Organa Solo to be made to the Alderaanian Orphans fund. Anything actually sent will be donated as well."

"What if Luke gets her a baby sized lightsaber?"

She actually giggled then. "You know he knows better."

He smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Anyone falling asleep over there?"

"I think…." Closing her eyes, she took a slow breath and assessed her situation. "I think the little princess may just be quieting down."

"How many more weeks of this?"

"Five. Then another eighteen years."

"Yeah but it's easier for me to share some of that. This you're kinda stuck with."

Twisting next to him, she lifted one leg over his, easing some of the pressure on her hips with a sigh. "You're up too. I appreciate it."

He splayed his hand over the small of her back, kneading gently. "Well I only got five more weeks of having you to myself. Gotta make the most of it. Maybe by sleeping with you." A yawn overpowered him, leaving the last few words mangled. She understood, anyway.

Closing his eyes, he smiled. "Goodnight, Your Highnessnesses."

He barely felt the whack of her hand on his bicep, but drifted off the the sound of her soft laughter.


	5. Surprises

"Happy birthday."

She opened the box to find a small platinum brooch. They were not her usual choice for a piece of jewelry-she was much fonder of rings and necklaces-but as soon as she saw the simple piece, she knew why he'd given it to her, though he was not usually one to lavish her with fancy gifts.

"Where did you find this?" Carefully, she lifted the piece from the deep blue velvet casing, running the edge of a nail over the curve of the scrolled border.

"There was some market on Ferrick, apparently a big antiquities thing. State had some kinda side mission looking for looted pieces that I gave 'em a hand with. Most of it was tawdry crap, anyway, but this looked like the real deal."

"It is." There was a confounding amount of cheap knockoffs of Alderaanian jewelry, given that they were never particularly well-known as jewelers; their traditional styles ran to the minimalist. But there was a small fortune to be made in Alderaanian goods of any kind, so the financial incentive had encouraged many to either create knockoffs or pass off non-Alderaanian work as native.

Since the early days, Han had always brought her what he could find from Alderaan. He had an unerring sense of the genuine, perhaps from years of shady dealing of his own, and knew how to spot a fake a mile away. It had surprised her at first, but she'd never been opposed to the gifts-it was a safe, incremental progression in their slow courtship, and she treasured every bit of home she had. They were fewer and farther between these days, as most objects had made their way onto the markets in the years immediately following the Destruction, and perishable goods like food and alcohol were long past their expirations; only a small selection of fine wines remained drinkable. He'd found one of those a few years ago, and they'd put it away for their twenty-fifth anniversary.

She admired it for another moment before beginning to pin it on her lapel. Clucking her tongue, she struggled to get it straight, and he took over the task, aligning it so the delicate piece wasn't smothered by the elaborate folds of fabric. It caught the light, brilliant against the maroon silk.

"Looks nice." He tapped it, once, and smiled at her.

"Thank you." Rocking up onto her toes, she stretched up to kiss him, deep and sweet. "You still manage to surprise me."

"Every chance I get, Princess. You ready to go?"

She ran a hand over her braids one more time, then nodded. "Let's go do this, so we can get back home. I believe you said you had another gift for me, later?"

Kissing her cheek swiftly, his lips brushed past her ear. "I could give it to you now instead."

Clucking at him, this time, she shook her head and headed for the door. "We've got to put in an appearance. Just an hour."

As he looped his arm around her he grinned. "I'm holding you to that."


	6. Distractions

General Han Solo leaned back in his chair and casually surveyed the other beings seated at the conference table. Most of them seemed to be totally focused on whatever the fresh hells Dodonna was rambling about now. Probably not facial hair regulations.

Though that did give him an idea.

Trying his best to look like he was making very important notes, he tapped around on his datapad, until he found the perfect image of a wampa. He glanced around the table, sizing up the targets. Leia looked attentive and involved, which he'd have to do something about in a minute. Wedge would probably laugh, but not _really_ get it. Then his eye came to rest on Luke.

Perfect.

A few more taps on the datapad and he drop-linked the image directly to Luke's own datapad. It must have been set to silent, but he saw the screen flash brightly as the image appeared.

That was the great part of the drop-link — it popped right up, with no help from the datapad owner. Suddenly he regretted not selecting a video. Though if Luke's pained smirk across the table was anything to go by, mission accomplished. Luke coughed, trying to disguise a laugh, while glaring at Han. He only gave him an innocently blank stare in return.

"...and what do you think on the red versus green issue, General Solo?"

He froze, with the distinct feeling he should have been at least half listening. When there was no imminent threat of death, it was easier to forget to pay attention during these meetings. "Well," he drawled, trying to buy time while studying Leia's face. Surely she'd help him out—but no, only a quirked brow. Damn.

"Red tends to be more visible." That seemed a reasonable and practical point to make, and he gave a little nod.

Dodonna did too, so it must have been at least vaguely correct, as he heard the Defense Chief go on, "As the General agrees, the red would be much more visible…"

He took a breath in relief, not caring what he'd just agreed to, and promptly zoned back out. Picking color schemes was not his area of interest or expertise. He wasn't even sure why he was in this meeting. There seemed to be a lot of brass here for a meeting about colors.

Venturing another look at Leia, he watched one brow raise at him questioningly. There were so many ways to answer her. He tapped his datapad awake again, and saw that Luke was no longer available for drop-link and smirked a little. Leia still was though. He debated between sending her something that way, or via message.

Starting small seemed the way to go, lure her in with something simple then engage her. Leia was all about strategy. He pulled up an image of one of the mountain lakes they'd visited on Naboo a few months ago, and drop-linked it to her.

When the image flashed up on her datapad, she eyed him warily before looking down at it. But then she smiled, a mild smile she didn't bother trying to hide in the midst of the meeting, and he knew he'd made the right choice. He noticed his messenger box pop up almost immediately.

_L: That was such a nice trip. Wish we were there now._

Oh yes, he could work with that. He gave her a little wink, and proceeded to carefully compose his response.

_H: Me too. Remember sitting out on the deck at sunset?_

He was certain she did, and just as certain she remembered how little sitting had been involved.

She frowned at the message, but her cheeks grew just a bit pink. Then she looked down and furiously typed out a message.

_L: Sunsets there were very dramatic._

Leia's face was neutral, and focused back on Dodonna, when he looked up from reading.

_H: We've got a balcony here. Could recapture a little of that drama later._

This time she did actually glare at him after reading his message.

_L: Our balcony is directly under Mon's, and overlooks busy travel lanes._

_H: It'll be dark til this meeting is over. And if you're less dramatic, Mon will never know._

He heard her muffle her reaction with a cough.

_L: I'm not the one who actually echoed across the lake._

_H: I'm not the one worried about being overheard._

Across the table, Leia tapped a stylus on her datapad, giving him a sharp look, before turning back to whatever the matter at hand was.

"Are we being too speciest in our color selection though? What about those beings more sensitive to the infrared spectrum?" He heard her voice, understood the words, and had no clue what they could be talking about. Were they repainting the whole fleet? Red? Or green?

Then his datapad flickered again.

_L: You promise to keep quiet, maybe I'll consider it._

He blinked, then cast a cautious glance around the room. Everyone else still seemed involved in this debate, not paying any mind to him.

_H: Maybe? I can be real quiet._

She actually winked at him from across the table.

_L: You've never been able to keep quiet when I use my tongue._

Was this a challenge? Two could play at this game. And potentially both win, in his estimation.

_H: Neither have you. Challenge accepted?_

At the head of the table, Dodonna tapped a knuckle on the heavy wood. "That brings all time for discussion to a close. Show of hands please, those in favor of retaining hangar markings in green? Four, four it is. Refreshing to red markings? Seven, seven, excellent."

With a frown, he realized he'd spent the better part of his afternoon in a meeting about the hargar directional markers everyone ignored anyway.

_L: I'll see you on the balcony at 2130._

Maybe the meeting hadn't been a complete waste of his time.


End file.
